Chapter Fourteen
Needless/Wantless
I seethed with rage. Sing him a song? Anything remotely songlike was ripped from my lips the moment my village turned to ash. No lullaby, hunting tune, or ballad survived the destruction. Sing him a song. He might as well have asked me to wish on a star.
Maybe I could try to reason with him. Or maybe you'll be stuck for centuries and Soren will die.
"I don't know any songs," I said again, words forceful this time. "So I can't sing something for you. If there's anything else?"
The nøkken laughed a cruel, bitter laugh. "You've no songs? You have plenty. All there in your head. Do you think that the pain you feel is meant to be stuck inside of you, never released? No. That's why the Aesir and Vanir granted us music and the wonderfulness of words. You have a song, sweet child, but if you can't find it, there's nothing I can do. Your boy will die and letting you go..." he trailed off. "I don't think I like that idea."
My fingers tightened around the stiletto. "Okay," I said. "Okay. Just give me a minute to think."
"A minute, an hour, a millennium," he mused, "it's all the same to me."
I shivered at his tone. I'd been around insane beings enough to know their danger. Whether it was the lost lovers and endless solitude of the nøkken or whatever sickness in the head plagued Lydian, I needed to be really careful. One wrong move...
A sliver of fear found its way to my heart. I could've been like this if I was a normal human. If I'd survived this long, if Lydian's torture had got to me, I could've been exactly like this. I shook the thought away, focusing back on the issue at hand.
A song. I didn't even know whether I had a decent voice, much less if there was a song somewhere deep in my heart. Get your head straight, Janneke. If you don't do this, Soren dies.
"Alright," I breathed in deeply. "Give me a moment, I just need some inspiration."
The nøkken bared his rows of sharp teeth in a smile. I shuddered; the multiple rows pressed down behind one another like sharks. I pitied the dead women on the ground who were forced to kiss that mouth.
"I can help with that." He held out a hand. His skin was warm and slimy, like the mud and mossy mixture of a swamp, but his grip was strong. He bent down, sharp teeth still out, and pricked my hand. I jerked back as a small trail of blood dripped from the heel of my palm.
"What did you do?"
"I have given you inspiration."
The blood already stopped flowing but a sharp wave of vertigo hit and I stumbled forward. Up and down, left and right mixed together until the world twisted around like a kaleidoscope.
Are you dead? I knew that voice. That voice made me shudder, scream, and cry. It'd taken everything away from me. You're not supposed to die yet. I need to know first I need to know! I blinked rapidly, haunted by the images flashing across my eyes. Dragged by a horse. Tormented every night. Are you dead yet, little girl? Are you dead? No? Good. Don't worry, it'll all be over soon.
Pain blossomed inside my breast, powerful enough for me to double over, clutching my stomach. The breath escaped my lungs in quick spurts as fear and pain and memories I'd long tried to forget spun a weave inside my head.
"Are you dead?
Little girl
Why don't you close your eyes?
Are you dead?
Little girl
Tonight
Are you dead?
Little girl
Are you an angel in flight?
Or are you lost in your body?
Lost in the world?"
It was a thick blanket smothering me; Helka's power, the young lordling's, Elvira's and the lindworms, Panic's death and Rekke's, it threatened to choke the life out of me and leave me dead on the floor.
"It slowly takes and captivates
And wraps around our skin
The curtains that we hide behind
Cradle us in our sin
The night is dark
The world is cruel
And the stars are all on fire
But that little girl
That little girl
Her one only desire"
My throat was on fire. The words had always been there. A bloody hand grabbing a new lord's cloak, darkness lining the eyelids of humans wasting away, coldness inside my chest when I passed by the dying, betrayed looks by those who considered me a blood traitor; all I longed to forget now bubbling to the surface.
"Are you dead?
Little girl
Wear your heart on your sleeve
Are you dead?
Little girl
You're not supposed to grieve
Are you dead?
Little girl
Why does your skin feel so numb?
Little girl
Little girl
What have you done?"
The coldness of the river water against the agony of my burns and the lies and secrets swirled around, battering my body. Hunger gnawed inside me, so fierce I couldn't ignore it. But the hunger was for more than food; it was for blood and pain, desire and revenge.
"The world it shatters like raining glass
Veils eyes, thoughts, and minds
Our daily bread is all we ask
But it is too much to find
Your heart is weak
My breath is stone
And we weave a web of lies
Are you dead?
Little girl
You're not supposed to cry"
Strength poured from my once quivering voice as I straightened to look the nøkken in the eye. His glee-filled gaze at the pain coming from my lips made my stomach churn in disgust. Their shrewd, calculating nature made me naked before him.
But he wouldn't have me. No one would. Not unless I wanted it. No hands would roam where I forbade them, no lips or teeth would press against my flesh unless it was my wish. I was my own. The dregs of pain and fear I'd long buried bubbled to the surface but I stood strong against their blows.
"Are you dead?
Little girl
Have they ravaged your skin?
Are you dead?
Little girl
Have the demons come in?
Are you dead?
Little girl
Like a lamb in the field?
Little girl
Oh Little girl
Your soul won't be healed"
I was alive and breathing and fighting with every step I took. The mocking voice asking me over and over why my heart still went on inside my head was nothing more than the blood rushing in my ears. My voice rose with anger as I spat out the words in revulsion.
"Are you lost?
Little girl
Are you scared?
Little girl
Are you weak?
Little girl
Are you angry?
Little girl
Are you sad?
Little girl
Are you numb?
Little Girl
Are you there?
Little girl
Are you there?
Little girl
Are you there?
Little girl?"
My father's blood drenched my hands as a million pairs of eyes judged me, the daughter who chose the future from her past. But the shame that washed over me was nothing compared to the rage burning me up. We are all monsters even if we chose not to believe so. And the worst type were those who didn't understand that.
"We fall on our knees for you, sweet little child
We would die and appease for your sweet darling smile
But we don't have a need for you
We don't have a part
So go out in the wild
Let the wolves eat your heart"
I breathed out, the anger gone from my voice, and once more I whispered.
"Are you dead?
Little girl
Are you dead?
Little girl
Are you dead?
Little girl
Why are your eyes still open?"
I shuddered at the last words but kept my gaze at the creature before me. "There is your song. Now give me what I need to heal Soren."
The nøkken slowly nodded; I could almost see the thoughts stirring inside his head. "You do have a story, don't you?" A slow smile spread across his face. "I can feel it like your own heart beating."
I scowled. The remains of my past still whirred through my adrenaline addled brain. I pushed them far away, locking them back into the place they belonged. The past is the past. I was alive. My eyes would always be open, watching every creatures every move. I would withstand whatever life threw at me. I was as sure of it as I was the breath in my body.
"I want what we bargained for," I demanded.
The creature smiled sadly. "And you will get it."
The calculating look in his eyes made my shoulders itch with discomfort. "Alright, then," I said. "Let's have it."
The nøkken ambled his way across the cave like there wasn't a goblin hundreds of feet above him dying of lindworm venom. He paused by the stone flowers and spoke to them as if they were people. One of his scaly hands brushed against the water-lily adorned hair of a dead girl.
I don't have time for this. "Excuse me, I'm kind of on a deadline."
He looked over at me, a clear film covering his eyes like a snake. "Patience, sweet child."
I clenched my fists and reminded myself this was the only way to save Soren and if that meant dealing with a senile nøkken, then I could do it. At least my throbbing palm was sealing up.
The strength the song gave me seeped away until the fire in my body turned to cold ashes. Voices came, scowling, snarling, taunting, all mocking every flaw, every vulnerability.
A thin sheet of sweat broke out across my body as my heart picked up speed. Regret tugged sharply in my gut as I pictured my father's last moments with me but deep inside I knew there was nothing I would've done different, given another chance.
Lydian's words came out of my father's mouth. Worthless. Needless. Wantless. A lucky human bitch. They were more painful than any poison.
Someone cleared their throat and I stared up at the nøkken. He'd a vial in his hand, full of some odd, purple salve. "Spread this directly into the wound," he said. "And he should be fine within the hour."
I took the vial with trembling hands; remembering those first, long nights in Soren's manor where Tanya worked tirelessly to save my broken, beaten body. The look of myself in the mirror, realizing what he'd done. The massive scar tissue, the ugly blotch, where my right breast used to be. The scars along my spine and stomach and ribs, the deep grooves on my face; I'd never thought I was pretty, but I'd never believed I was ugly either. Not until then.
"Although, I wonder," the nøkken said, "are you fine?"
"I'm fine," I said. "I just need to get out of here." My fingers curled tightly around the vial. "Thank you."
The cave beckoned for me to let the creature soak away my sorrow and turn it into red stone in the shape of flowers. I forced myself to take one step, then another, focusing on the cold water lapping steadily against my bare feet. I stuffed the vial in the pocket on my bracer, now grateful I hadn't taken off all my clothes before diving in.
It was relatively calm at first. The coldness of the water shocked away any lingering memories. I swum down the cavern, back to the dark, black water that waited for me, swirling in a merciless trap.
The second I hit the blackness the force of the whirlpool nearly blew me back into the cavern. I grasped onto a jagged rock, pulling myself into the stream. Water beat my body without pity, throwing me around like a ragdoll. I grasped another rock, then another, pulling myself up as the whirlpool greedily sucked me down.
My head broke through the surface and I gasped as air filled my burning lungs. The water wasn't ready to relinquish its hold and tugged me back down under the waves.
In the blackness, a green hand glowed. Its long fingers wrapped around my ankle, nails digging into the skin. The nøkken's eyes burned with an eerie, green fire as he dragged me under. I thrashed in the churning waves, panic beating in chest.
He gave me his word. But he never said he'd let me go once I got the cure. I reached for the stiletto on my belt and with difficultly, pulled it free. Then I swiped at the nøkken's fingers. He let go, letting blood flow from where his nails dug into my ankle. Light flashed behind my eyes and the pain, loss, and regret spilled back out from where I buried it. Worthless, needless, wantless. Whip marks on bare flesh, glares from enemies who should be allies, rejection, death. The taste of raw meat in my mouth. The arrows through dead bodies, countless dead bodies. It was too much. Just too much. If my chest burst open and spilled my insides into the water I wouldn't be surprised. The pressure and pain burst at the seams inside me.
I sunk, my lips parting, eyes closing. A force hit me like a boulder, shoving me into the rocky wall of the abyss. Fingers pried the stiletto from my hand and I couldn't even try to stop it; the horrifying visions of blood and flesh and death played like a wheel spinning endlessly. The same force wrapped its arms around my waist, under my armpits, and jerked heavily once, twice, then again until the cold air blasted me from all directions.
Gasping for breath, a pair of pale hands pulled me up out of the water. Soren's concerned eyes latched onto mine and in the darkness they raged with fever. The wound on his arm was turning black, the skin open and ugly. Without a second to waste, I ripped open the pocket in my bracer, pulled out the vial, and rubbed the contents into the deepest part of his wounds. Then I collapsed, the visions dancing before my eyes taking over.
###
Sometime later, I woke up screaming, trapped in a pair of arms. Lydian. Lydian. He's come to kill me. The vicious goblin was right before my eyes, his once-pretty body now animalistic and bending over to take what he thought was his. But the voice that spoke wasn't Lydian's. It calmed my racing heart, but only just.
"Shh," he said. "You're going to be alright. It's going to pass. I've got you."
The sweet darkness returned and took away the pain with it. A scream disturbed the peace and I was on a field of bodies, those of my family, those of my friends, the bones of children piling high at my feet. Your fault. The skeletons said. Your fault. You could've warned us. You could've helped us hide. But you saved yourself. Your worthless, worthless self. The disfigured body of a young boy sat up, staring around with one good eye; the other half of his face ripped into bloody shreds. His auburn hair spilled down in ringlets, darkened by blood. The boy's eye latched onto me and he tilted his head. Auntie, he said, why didn't you save me?
I clawed at my face and eyes if only to make it stop. But strong hands still held me in place. The arms still pressing me firmly against a body that was hard and warm and almost shield-like as it enclosed me in its embrace.
"It's not real," he said. "None of it is real." I shook. It was right in front of me! All of it! The piles of bones and the ghosts, the skeletons and the demons towered over me. I couldn't be the only one who saw it!
I'm sorry. I wanted to say to my sister's son. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I would change everything if I could! But no words came out of my dry, dusty mouth.
The boy frowned and said, How come I get half a face and you get a whole one? It's not fair. The heartbroken look in his single, blue eye tore my body into pieces and I madly clawed at my own skin.
I'll make it up. I'll make it up. I'll make it up!
Even though the strong hands were restraining now, their grip didn't hurt. The warm body curling around me calmed me with its rapid heartbeat. The breath that'd rushed from my lungs was steadying.
"There," he said. "It's almost over. It's almost out of your system." A hand ran through my hair, the sharp nails pricking my scalp. The sensation lit every nerve in my body in a mix of anxiety and euphoria.
Then I was by Soren's side as countless dead-eyed slaves trudged by, their legs whipped and bleeding. I followed always one step behind and tended to his every desire. Targets became dead humans whose stares haunted me. With what little emotion they had left, they glared, they judged. You're a blood traitor, they said. You should die with us, not lower yourself to their standards. You're nothing but a whore. A pet. I ached to scream that it wasn't my choice and I was as much a slave as the rest of them but the words turned to ashes in my mouth.
###
When I woke for real, it didn't surprise me that I was wrapped in Soren's arms. His hard, muscular body pressed against mine, curling protectively around me. The wounds on my ankle from the nøkken faded but the lingering smell of brine made acid churn in my stomach.
Soren's hands were firmly wrapped around my wrists. I noticed red beneath my fingernails. I shifted slightly, my head pressing against Soren's chest. Where his heart should've been there was a deep indent. In my nightmares there'd been rapid thumping, but it could've just been the waterfall. Did goblins have heartbeats? I didn't know.
"Janneke." His hard face relaxed in relief. "It's over now. It's over."
I breathed in his scent of wood-smoke and pine needles. "You know," I murmured, letting the scent overwhelm me. "You were wrong."
"What possibly could I be wrong about?" I didn't see the smile, but I knew it was there, just like I knew there'd be a twinkling light in his eyes.
"You're not a heartless monster," I said. "You're a monster with a heart."
And he laughed.
"Are you alright?" I asked. The sickening smell of dying flesh was gone though the copper tang of blood was still in the air. With a little bit of maneuvering, my eyes rested on a long, newly formed, pink scar on his arm.
"I'm fine," he said. "You had me worried for a while." He started to disentangle himself from me, leaving a cold space where his body had been. My body ached with the desire to reach for him, to keep him close.
"What happened to me?"
The answer came from behind me. "Nøkkens draw blood to increase the emotional anguish in their victims. Anything that hurts them or makes them feel regret, sorrow, anger, comes out in waves. They feed off them as much as they feed of the love of humans. I should've warned you before you dove, I didn't think that the deal would go sour so fast, I apologize."
Seppo stood a little ways away from us. His hunter's leggings were soaked, his hair dripping, and he wrung the dark water out from his hooded tunic. The dark swirls of tattoos around his ears and cheeks glowed dark sapphire in the little light.
"You saved my life," I said. "You went into the water when you knew it would hurt you, maybe kill you."
Seppo shrugged. "It's nothing."
"It is something," Soren argued. "Thank you."
The tips of Seppo's ears reddened. "Well, if both of you died, then I'd have no one to tell Lydian's plans to. And then I'd be stuck going against him alone and then probably would die in a horrifying or painful way. Probably both. So, this is a better outcome."
I stiffened. Seppo mentioned a plan of Lydian's in his lists of reasons not to hate him. I grumbled as it dawned on me that now he had another; he saved my life twice now. "All goblins make plans on the Hunt. What makes Lydian any different?"
Seppo looked over his shoulder, back at the churning water. He shuddered and faced us. "All goblins have plans during the hunt, true. But I don't think any of them have plans anything like his."
Soren raised his eyebrows. "And what's that?"
Seppo gulped and fear glistening in his dark blue eyes. "He wants to kill the Stag."
"Every goblin wants to kill the Stag." Irritation colored Soren's voice. "I doubt Lydian would be different."
"No," Seppo said. "You don't understand. He wants to kill it for good. So he can be Erlking for eternity."